


Into My Arms

by hemsglee



Series: Panther T'Challa [4]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Confessions, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, M/M, Panther T'Challa, Protectiveness, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemsglee/pseuds/hemsglee
Summary: (CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BLACK PANTHER)In the ruins of what remains of Shuri’s lab, Everett and T’Challa finally find one another.





	Into My Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [W moich ramionach](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14025084) by [Lampira7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lampira7/pseuds/Lampira7)



> Please listen to “Into My Arms” by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds while you read/before you read this fic! I promise, you won’t regret it, and it really sets the scene. I’m aware that the song sounds like it has a religious message, but just look back to the first few lines if it starts feeling a bit preachy. I’m not at all religious myself, but the song is easily one of my favorites. Thanks guys! :’)

“Where is agent Ross?”

“Last I heard from him he was still in the lab, but-”

T’Challa didn’t need any more explanation than that. He didn’t want to hear anything else as he took off running toward Shuri’s lab, the ache in his heart pushing him forward faster than he knew he was capable of running. He just wanted the location of Everett K. Ross, and now that he had it, he wouldn’t stop until he got there.

When Shuri had told him how the agent (an _outsider_ , T’Challa reminded himself constantly) had willingly risked his life to protect Wakanda’s obscurity, a surge of love and affection had passed over the king and sped up his heart rate. For as long as Everett had been in Wakanda, and even before then back in Berlin, T’Challa had been shamelessly courting the man and attempting to win his heart.

Now, that may have all been just a waste.

As he ran into what was left of Shuri’s decimated laboratory, he looked around and tried to find his consort. His human eyes and shaking hands weren’t enough to get the job done, and he knew this as he slipped into his panther form and nosed around in the wreckage.

With keener senses and stronger pack instincts, T’Challa quickly found Everett, struggling to stand with a hand gingerly holding his left arm. There were various small cuts on his face and hands, possibly from flying shards of glass, but T’Challa saw no major damage that would require more than bandaging or some of Shuri’s expertise.

Then again, T’Challa didn’t know what Everett was hiding under his right hand.

Forgetting the possibility of permanent damage for the time being, T’Challa ran to the man and immediately pushed his head against Everett’s with a rumbling purr. The agent let out a small yelp of surprise before quickly relaxing with a soft laugh, returning the gesture of affection by nuzzling his cheek against the top of T’Challa’s head.

“Your Majesty, it’s... It’s so great to see you alive,” he said and wrapped his good arm around T’Challa’s neck, pulling their bodies closer together. T’Challa carefully turned his head and licked over one of the bigger cuts on Everett’s cheek, trying to stop the sluggish bleeding. Amused, Everett released his hold on the king and turned his face away.

“Really, sir, I’m fine. No need for weird healing panther spit,” he said as he ducked away from T’Challa’s tongue once more. T’Challa huffed in annoyance but conceded, returning to his purring and nuzzling contently.

They sat there for what felt like an eternity, T’Challa getting his fill of rubbing his scent against the agent while Everett watched with fondness etched in every inch of his face. When T’Challa was finally content, he touched their foreheads together and returned to his human form.

As coarse fur on his forehead turned into warm skin, Everett blushed and squirmed where he sat. T’Challa slowly raised a hand to rest in Everett’s hair, holding their faces flush and tracing a thumb over the man’s temple.

“I will never be able to repay you for the service you did to Wakanda today,” he mumbled, his lips dangerously close to Everett’s as he spoke. Everett tensed and chewed his lip, the tension in the room slowly seeping in as they sat there, skin to skin, both waiting for the other to say something.

“I... I want to say I would have done that for anyone, but...” Everett trailed off, the implication loud and clear. He wouldn’t have done that for anyone- he had done it for T’Challa. For Shuri, Ramonda, Nakia, the Dora Milaje, the elders, W’Kabi, M’Baku; everyone he had met during his time there.

He had done it for Wakanda.

T’Challa raised his right hand to grasp the other side of Everett’s face, both of their breath hitching as they sat there sharing air. The tension seemed to mount then, Everett’s hands hovering over T’Challa’s waist and hesitating to grab hold. T’Challa smiled and moved his thumbs to Everett’s cheek, feeling a single tear as he traced over the soft skin.

“Everett... Why are you crying?” he asked and finally opened his eyes, seeing the look of sorrow on the man’s face. He immediately pulled back to give him space, but as soon as they were at a respectable distance from one another, the ache of loss ripped through them both and sent them rushing back to close the distance they had made. But this time as they brought themselves back closer together, Everett raised a hand and put it on the back of T’Challa’s neck and pulled him so their noses brushed as well as their foreheads.

Were either of them to say just one word, or move one centimeter, their lips would surely touch.

They sat like that for a while, in content silence, T’Challa holding Everett’s face and Everett cradling T’Challa close to him. They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to speak.

When the silence was finally broken, it was by Everett, saying through his tears “You saved my life that day. You brought me here and risked everything for the life of a man you hardly knew. Why? Why did you do that?”

“The saving of a life is something sacred in Wakanda,” T’Challa whispered, his hand making its way down to cup Everett’s jaw. “Saving somebody’s life at the risk of your own is one the most selfless and highly revered things you can ever do. You nearly sacrificed your life to save one of my people, and it only seemed fit that I return the favor.”

“You risked all of this, this entire country, for me,” Everett said back, tears dotting the corners of his eyes again. “You risked everything just because I didn’t let Nakia get shot. How could you have known I wouldn’t tell anybody about this place? Hell, you _still_ don’t even know for sure that I won’t!”

“I do know for sure that you won’t,” T’Challa said calmly, wiping away Everett’s tears. Everett looked up at him in confusion, and T’Challa smiled in response.

“You care about my country and its safety, Everett. I know you do. Why else would you have risked your life so many times to protect it?”

A few beats of tense silence followed T’Challa’s words as Everett sat there blinking away tears. The king was right- Everett cared about preserving the culture and people of the country he was in more than he cared about returning to his own.

T’Challa then suddenly, _finally_ , closed the gap between them.

Their lips pressed together as four hands rushed for whatever skin they could reach, T’Challa hovering over Everett and sliding a hand down to hold his hip. Everett’s good hand was splayed over the side of T’Challa’s face, while his injured one shuddered where it rested on T’Challa’s neck. T’Challa’s other hand held tight onto Everett’s chin, holding the man in place as they kissed.

The world no longer felt like it was in ruin around them. They weren’t in the remains of Shuri’s lab, they were sitting in their own little part of existence, kissing as if the world was ending.

Except it wasn’t. Not anymore.


End file.
